


Lemon Drops

by Kienova



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienova/pseuds/Kienova
Summary: Daisy took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind as much as possible from what she had been hearing since she got back to the plane. Hearing about Coulson’s collapse. May’s tense words regarding the horror that had befallen them in the collapsed building. Jemma’s blatant refusal to listen to Mack. And at first, there had been silence. But it was soon broken.





	Lemon Drops

**Author's Note:**

> This thing has been sitting on my laptop for ages. Figured it was time to get it finished. Sorry for the angst-fest. Not beta read or anything so all mistakes are my lack of checking things over for myself.

Daisy took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind as much as possible from what she had been hearing since she got back to the plane.

Hearing about Coulson’s collapse. May’s tense words regarding the horror that had befallen them in the collapsed building. Jemma’s blatant refusal to listen to Mack, trying to squirm out of his hold as he led her down the hallway, expression grim and full of sorrow. The scientist had managed to escape just before she got to the door, her jaw set and eyes red-rimmed as she refused to acknowledge the others around her other than insisting she go into the room alone. May had allowed it, but only with the proviso that they remained in the hallway and waited for her.

At first, there had been silence. The door clicking shut the only noise that permeated the hallway as May had scrubbed a hand over her face before leaning against the wall.

“I… I can’t. I need a minute,” Mack had said, swallowing hard before hastening away, arms wrapped around himself as he disappeared around the corner, leaving Daisy to stand next to her mentor, fidgeting.

“Was it quick?” Daisy asked, the shock settling into her bones, her skin feeling like it was crawling. May sighed, hearing the clatter of something falling to the floor from the other room.

“Relatively. He didn’t know what was happening. I don’t think he was in much, if any, pain at least,” the pilot grit out, clenching her eyes shut when words started filtering through the silence.

Daisy immediately felt like she was going to throw up when she heard what Jemma was saying.

“ _ Fitz, stop this, it’s not funny.” _

“Oh God,” Daisy gulped, back hitting the wall as her knees gave out from under her, sending her to the floor in a matter of seconds.

_ “Fitz, please, stop. Stop pretending. I need you. Get up. Please.” _

May let out a breath, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at the ceiling, suddenly more vulnerable than Daisy had ever seen her. There was still blood clinging to her cuticles and dust in her hair, her normally put together appearance crumbling like the world around them, her knee bouncing slightly.

_ “Fitz, wake up damnit!” _

“Fuck,” Daisy swore, trying to stem the tears she could feel brimming behind her own eyes.

“ _ Please, I’ll do anything. We can get a monkey. Just please… please wake up.” _

“I can’t do this,” Daisy whimpered, contemplating getting up until she saw the look on May’s face.

“We need to be here for her,” the older woman said. “We’re all she has now.” The words were a punch to the stomach, leaving Daisy’s mind reeling when she realised the words were true. Jemma couldn’t go back to her family, not while they were all still fugitives. As for Deke, she wasn’t sure if he had blinked out of existence or if he had just left, not wanting to be caught in the crosshairs. But regardless, May was right.

_ “You… you promised to never leave my side... I don’t… I don’t know how to live without you.”                         _

Daisy’s heart ached at the sounds emanating through the door; Jemma’s cries broken and shuddering when they finally started a heartbeat later, loud and gasping.

May inhaled deeply before shoving herself off the wall, opening the door and disappearing inside.

Daisy fled the minute she was alone.

\--

The next twenty-four hours were nearly sleepless, Daisy working as hastily as she could to clear their names simply so that they could afford Fitz a proper funeral, even if it was simply the team in attendance. 

The mortician who arranged the service was gentle and understanding, never forcing Jemma to speak unless she had to, explaining the documents that she needed to sign and what they would be doing. She nodded wordlessly, having to stop a few times to cover her mouth with her hand as she started to sob, hand shaking so badly that her signature was nearly indecipherable on the funeral contracts. She couldn’t bare to look at the caskets, curling in on herself so tight that she looked no bigger than a child in the leather chair, Daisy’s wide and panicked eyes snapping between the other woman and the funeral director. He rose from his chair, coming to crouch down next to Jemma. 

“I’ll pick something nice, okay?” he whispered, keeping his hand on the arm of the chair but never touching her. Jemma’s barely perceptible nod was her only confirmation. 

\--

“You should talk to her,” Yoyo said, nudging Mack as they stood in the kitchen. He tossed her an unimpressed look. 

“And say what? She doesn’t want to talk to me… God, I watched her husband  _ die _ . I’m the last person she’s going to want to talk to,” he shot back, gripping the edge of the counter with a force that made Daisy cringe from her place at the other end of the room. 

“Mack, she’s barely spoken to any of us since it happened. The funeral is in the morning. I don’t think that she should be alone,” Elena insisted, frowning when Mack stormed out of the room. 

“I’ll go,” Daisy whispered. Elena turned to look at her, confusion sliding across her features. “I was with her at the funeral home yesterday… she… she was a wreck. You’re right. She shouldn’t be alone right now.” Daisy hesitated only a moment after that, opening the fridge to grab something that Elena didn’t see, her eyes tracking the younger inhuman as she wandered into the corridor. 

\--

Daisy took a deep breath, clenching her empty palm into a fist before she raised it, knocking softly on the door. There was no answer, but she could see light around the edges. 

“Jemma?” she called, knocking again. When she didn’t receive an answer, she grit her teeth, quaking the door until she heard the lock snick open. Jemma was curled up on the bed, staring off into the middle distance with tears slowly tracking down her face. From the redness that rimmed her eyes and the shuddering breaths she was taking, Daisy knew that she hadn’t just started crying - that it had likely been going on for quite a while before anyone thought to check on her. “I’m going to come in, okay?” Daisy said, broadcasting her movements as she slipped through the door, closing it behind her before padding across the room to crouch next to the bed. Jemma made no move of acknowledgement aside from a shuddering whimper, eyes fluttering closed for a heartbeat before gently opening again. 

Hesitantly, Daisy reached out a hand, pushing Jemma’s hair back from her face, trying to ignore the dampness she found on the strands before she moved to stand up again. She wasn’t sure what to do, the urge to fidget overwhelming her as she tried to remind herself that leaving Jemma alone wasn’t wise. That it wasn’t safe. Not really. She took a moment to breathe before lowering herself down onto the edge of the mattress, a hand coming to rest on Jemma’s hip, rubbing soft, slow circles into the skin. She wasn’t used to the stillness and silence surrounding the other woman. Had become so used to Jemma’s chatter when they first met that she wasn’t sure how to dwell in the hush that now filled the room. 

“Some weirdo left lemons in my bunk,” she blurted after a few moments, feeling like her skin was crawling with awkwardness from the quiet. She felt Jemma stiffen beneath her hand for a split second before a slightly watery laugh fell from the other woman’s lips. Looking down, Daisy found Jemma clenching her eyes shut, biting her lip. 

“It… that was Deke…” Jemma whispered, voice thick from crying. She grabbed for the tissues on the bedside table then, blowing her nose before struggling to sit up, hands shaking as she tried to support herself. Half-climbing over the smaller woman, Daisy wrapped an arm around her, tugging her gently until they both had their backs against the headboard, Jemma slightly curled into Daisy’s side as she fumbled with the used kleenex. 

“Why was Deke leaving me  _ lemons _ ?” she questioned, keeping her voice as level as she could manage, worried that any particular inflection could cause Jemma to start sobbing again. Jemma sighed, eyes closing. 

“It… at the Lighthouse… in the future. Other reality. What… whatever it was. It was… I…” Jemma stumbled, stopping herself to take a few deep breaths, swallowing hard before she attempted to continue. “He told me that it was from… from us.” The sentence, although grammatically sound, didn’t seem to make sense. 

“What do you mean?” Daisy prompted, resuming making small circles against Jemma’s side. 

“You know things were bad. That… that the Kree didn’t make it easy for humanity. Finding things to share with someone that you cared for was often difficult. You saw the conditions, Daisy, fruit and vegetables were hard to come by,” Jemma said, exhaustion warring on her features as she sagged into the other woman. “Things like chocolate and jewellery… they didn’t exist there. But sometimes, if you saved up or were lucky, you could get something exotic. Which, well… lemons were it.” 

“Seriously. Hey, I care about you, have the sourest fruit I can find?” Daisy asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice. Jemma giggled at the question, the sound broken but still there. 

“I’ve always liked them in my water,” she mused, body slowly becoming heavier as the energy drained out of her, pulling her towards an exhausted sleep. “But… but apparently Fitz used to get them for me. And then for our daughter. She used to get Deke oranges. He said it was because lemons were for a more romantic love. You have to get past the sour bits to realise how sweet they can be, with the right application. Like making lemonade. It… somehow became a custom at the Lighthouse.” 

“Oh,” Daisy breathed, realisation hitting her. “Deke… he was trying to tell me he liked me?” 

“Mmhm,” Jemma muttered. “I’m pretty sure it was just a school-yard crush but, well, he was trying.” She paused then, inhaling a shaking breath. “I don’t know what I’m going to do…” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Daisy whispered absently. “We got to space in the future and back. We’ll figure this out too.” In truth, she didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to make anything better. How to make Jemma’s grief lesson at the reality that she had lost her entire family. The other woman had lost her husband and grandson in a mere few seconds. Her life so rattled that the reality of her returning to her parents was unlikely at best, and impossible at worst. The fact that she had been able to recount anything about the life she had lost without breaking down was impressive. 

It took a few minutes, but Daisy soon felt Jemma’s breathing even out beside her, the other woman still tightly against her side. The thought of moving, of leaving just to take a moment to compartmentalize everything she had just heard, passed through her mind. But she couldn’t bring herself to move, knowing that Jemma needed the comfort. Instead, she wriggled around until they were both lying on the mattress, leaving the lamp on to chase away the shadows in the night. 

\--

The funeral was short. Not really a funeral at all, really, but rather a simple graveside committal.  Although Daisy didn’t understand it, Jemma had insisted on a Catholic priest performing the interment. She had muttered that it was what Fitz’s mother would have wanted - she had him baptized as a baby, after all. The comment had left Daisy wondering, as the priest read from the Bible, if Deke had been baptized as well, a small acknowledgement to his heritage, even if his grandparents, and probably parents, didn’t believe themselves. 

Jemma stood stoically, hands shaking in front of her as tears slid silently down her face, May and Coulson bracketing her like the protective parents they were, in so many respects. Mack and Elena were a foot to Daisy’s right, their hands interlaced as they stood graveside. She felt immensely alone, all of a sudden, the realization that this scene would be repeating itself all too soon with Coulson, making her throat constrict. She didn’t know if she would be as strong as Jemma - if she could remain upright at all. She already felt weak-kneed at the reality that her friend, her  _ brother _ , was lying in the casket in front of them, a cool breeze ruffling the spray of roses that adorned the wood. 

"Almighty God, You created the earth and shaped the vault of heaven; You fixed the stars in their places. When we were caught in the snares of death, You set us free through baptism; in obedience to Your will our Lord Jesus Christ broke the fetters of hell and rose to life, bringing deliverance and resurrection to those who are His by faith. In your mercy look upon this grave, so that Your servant may sleep here in peace; and on the day of judgment raise him up to dwell with Your saints in paradise,” the priest said, pulling vials of sand and holy water from his coat, sprinkling both over the casket. “Because God has chosen to call our brother Leo from this life to himself, we commit his body to the earth,for we are dust and unto dust we shall return. But the Lord Jesus Christ will change our mortal bodies to be like His in glory, for He is risen, the firstborn from the dead. So let us commend our brother to the Lord, that the Lord may embrace him in peace, and raise up his body on the last day.” 

Daisy bit her lip, unable to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks, but forcing the sob to stay caught in her throat. She couldn’t help the feeling of hollow cold that swept through her, seeing the polished wood slowly lowered into the ground as the priest finished the final commendation, closing his Bible and slowly walking over to Jemma, placing a comforting hand on her arm. The woman nodded softly, shaking with the force of her cries, even as the others slowly started moving towards the cars. Only May remained with her, the funeral director standing a fair distance away, giving them some privacy. 

“I’d… I’d like to stay till… until…” Jemma hiccupped, looking at May with pleading eyes. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” May questioned, wrapping a comforting arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. Jemma shook her head. 

“No… I’d… I’d like to be alone for this. Please,” came the quiet reply. May nodded, giving the younger woman one more squeeze before retreating back across the grass and to the road, leaning against the car in wait. Jemma took a shuddering breath, keeping back as the cemetery staff did what they needed to, keeping her arms around herself as the dirt piled up. Once they were done, the gave her a soft look before leaving her alone. Breathing out, she crept closer, kneeling down on the ground, one hand resting against the headstone. 

“You… you told me once that you’d do anything to get back to me, no matter what happened. But… but I think I might be the one who has to come find you, this time,” she whispered, stroking along the engraved letters, the grooves rough against the tender skin of her fingers. “I’m… I’m not sure where you are, but I’m going to try. I’m going to come get you. You’re off somewhere, sleeping, waiting to come find me in a future that isn’t real anymore. So I’ll come get you instead. I promise.” Taking a deep breath, she caressed the stone once more before standing up. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she murmured, leaving the cemetery with determination in her step, even as tears continued to slide down her cheeks. 

The lemon sat on the edge of the headstone, a stark yellow against black granite, a promise in the midst of sorrow. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
